Bizarre Love Triangle
by ObsessedProcrasinator
Summary: Immediately after episode 1.21 "Isobel," Stefan, Elena, & Damon process the emotions that arise from what Isobel has outed but they'd rather had been left unsaid. Confusion, anger, & lustiness ensue. Stelena/Delena love triangle. My first fic! Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Stefan was unsatisfied with the way his conversation with Damon had gone. He'd been foolishly hoping for some sort of denial, some sort of assurance from his brother. _No, Stefan. Don't be a brooding ass. What would I want with your boring high school girlfriend? Sure, she'd be a tasty snack, a fun few nights, maybe, but she's not worth the trouble. You're the one who loves the melodrama, baby brother._

He'd gotten nothing of the sort. Damon said they were just friends, but Stefan knew that Damon had added a silent phrase to that sentence: "for now." Stefan knew that Damon would have no qualms about taking Elena from him if she ever had a weak moment.

_What makes her look at him like that? _Stefan wondered as he paced broodingly around his book-strewn bedroom. _Doesn't she mind that he's a ruthless killer? An unremorseful monster? _ His mind was endlessly replaying the events of the last few days. In the Grill, Elena hadn't reacted as he would have liked when Isobel accused her of being with both he and Damon, as Katherine had. Her lovely mouth had dropped open, but she had said nothing. Nothing. No enraged, indignant denial. No response at all. Stefan had just dropped his head in dread in that moment. He'd seen the flirtation between Elena and Damon for months, but it hadn't really occurred to him that there was anything more to it. Now, he was replaying and re-evaluating every moment he'd witnessed between his brother and his girlfriend – that hug outside the tomb when Katherine had not been inside, the way she stayed with Damon outside his cell in the basement when he was detoxing. Stefan paused on that for a moment – why did they stay the night together outside that door? What had passed between them while he distracted by the agony of hunger?

Stefan couldn't stand the direction of his own thoughts any longer. He needed to see her sweet face. He knew he'd find the reassurances he needed in her soft eyes, in her warm arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Elena's mind was reeling from all of the events of the past few days. She'd been so caught up in the moment that she hadn't had time to journal at all. Now, she curled up on her bed with her Diary balanced on her knees, her pen quickly scratching across the page as she tried to process it all.

She'd met her mother, Isobel, and it had not been the dream come true for which she'd hoped. Damon had warned her that few vampires were like Stefan and Lexi, that most drank human blood and saw humans as, how did he put it, "walking milkshakes," there for nourishment, the joy of torture, or perhaps even the occasional sexual encounter. All ties to their human families and friends quickly faded for most vampires, Damon had told her. Yet, Elena had hoped for something, some moment of connection with her birth mother, even if there would be no mother/daughter shopping trips or spa days in their future. But her mother was a monster, vicious and cruel.

And the strange things she said! What could she have meant when she said that Katherine had been lucky to get out from between the Salvatore brothers, and that Elena would never be safe as long as she had one of them on each arm! _Diary, it's strange to admit, but I never feel safer than when I am in just that position!_ Elena sighed and stopped her pen for a moment as her head swam with the strange things her mother had said. _Why would she ask me why I chose Stefan over Damon? Why on earth would she think I would choose both? My own mother, of all people, even if she just met me, ought to know that my similarities to Katherine end with my face! They do, don't they? Oh, Diary, when she said that, I didn't know what to say! My mind flashed back to the fun Damon and I had in Atlanta, to the electrical charge I felt between my hand and Damon's – between my body and Damon's – when we'd done that strange antiquated no-touching dance at the Miss Mystic Falls competition. How could she know the way it knocked my breath out of me when he'd finally stepped forward and took me in his arms? Not that I would ever betray Stefan. Stefan is so sweet, so protective, so fatherly. Did I just say fatherly? Gross, Diary! I didn't mean that!_

Elena's attention was roused from her writing by a breeze from the window. She looked up to see Stefan's hulking form.

"Stefan," Elena said, his unexpected presence filling her with comfort and relief. She didn't like the strange place her thoughts had been taking her. "I'm so glad to see you," she said, slipping her diary under the mattress as she spoke. She swiveled herself so that she was crawling to him now, on hands and knees against the bed. Smiling mischievously, she said in what she hoped was a husky tone, "My thoughts have been everywhere tonight. Can you help me just not think for a while?"

Stefan hesitated and Elena moved up into a kneeling position. She reached out to caress his strong jaw and his troubled forehead lightly with her fingertips. Stefan, who still hadn't said a word, stood still and unyielding, but did not pull away. "What's the matter?" Elena asked, but she thought she knew. Stefan, too, could not forget Isobel's parting bombshell that Damon loved Elena. But maybe that wasn't all. He'd been strangely quiet for days, ever since Mr. Saltzman had pulled them into his classroom to tell them about Isobel coming to town. "It isn't about my mother, is it? All the strange things she said? You think too much, Stefan. So do I. Come on," she smiled slyly, "let's not think at all."

Elena inched closer to the silent, pensive vampire until the tips of her nipples brushed against the hardness of his muscled chest. She gasped slightly as the sensation travelled from her breasts though her belly, warming her intimate places. At the sound of her gasp, a dark, vampiric look flickered across Stefan's stony melancholy eyes, and for just a moment, Elena felt a thrill of danger. She took in a quick gulp of air just as Stefan grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her hard on the mouth. Elena moaned as she felt the warmth spread over her body, a dampness forming in her cotton panties. She was dizzy, like Stefan had gravity, pulling her in by all of her tenderest parts. She had felt turned on like this only once before, when Stefan had gotten a bit rough with her while he was on human blood, just before she'd injected him with vervain. She was frightened but aroused, and frightened that she was aroused.

Stefan came to Elena's room looking for comfort, but once he saw her, his mind was filled with questions and accusations. Ever since that unforgivable incident in his room before she had thankfully subdued him with vervain, Stefan feared even a moment of harshness toward her. So, he silenced his feelings, and said nothing at all. Elena started talking, but he couldn't even hear her over all of the angry thoughts in his head, which amplified when she started crawling toward him on the bed. That posture, that coquettish smile, that angle of the head, he'd seen it all before from Katherine. He stood there, shocked at himself, reminding himself _This is Elena. Elena. _ When he felt her hardened nipples scrap across his chest, the fabric did nothing to blunt the sensation against his vampiric senses. In an instant, his cock was inflamed with arousal, hard and straining against his jeans. He grabbed her by the shoulders, forgetting for a moment the deliberate gentleness with which he usually handled her, and kissed her harshly, wanting to please her, wanting to hurt her.

Stefan was washed over with sensation. He felt the tightness of his jeans against his cock. He felt the maddening warmth of Elena's tiny body, pressed tightly now against the length of him. He felt her mouth as he hammered it with kisses, tasted her saliva, heard her stunned moan. His vampiric nostrils were filled with her feminine musk and her fear. Her fear. Oh, God forgive him, her fear.

Stefan pulled back suddenly and uttered his first words since he intruded into her room: "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Elena. I don't know what came over me. I forgot myself. Forgive me. Forgive me, I don't ever want you to be afraid of me. Never. Not for a moment. I would never hurt you."

Elena blinked, stunned by the quick reversal. "Sorry?" she asked, her voice sounding strange in her own ears. "No, Stefan. No. There's no need for apologies." Again, she raised her hand to his face, cupped his cheek.

Stefan closed his eyes, "No, Elena, there is need. You were afraid. I could sense it. I should go." He began to pull away.

"Stefan, stay. Stay," Elena whispered, reaching out to get a firmer held on him. She drizzled light kisses on his face, on his collarbone. She moved in closer and found that his sudden remorsefulness had not diluted his desire; she could still feel his hard maleness through her thin shorts. Her kisses grew more insistent, pleading with him for silence, for forgetting, for the return of that dizzying gravity that had fled when he pulled back.

Stefan found himself forgetting his guilt as her warm mouth found his cool one, as her tongue smoothed against his blunted teeth. _I am so lucky_, he thought, _she forgives me every time. This is a girl with no malice, no resentment, no secrets. _Looking into her soft brown eyes, hazed now with her growing desire, he thought, _How could I think for even a moment that she resembles Katherine?_

Stefan reciprocated her kisses, slipping down the straps of her tank top and kissing her gently on her golden shoulders, now down the valley between her breasts. His hands were filled with her hard young breasts. As he kissed down her belly, he was intoxicated with the scent of her desire, now untainted by fear.

Elena lay back against the softness of her pillows to receive Stefan's attentions. She felt her arousal rising as Stefan rose from kissing her belly to reclaim her mouth. He lowered himself upon her so that his weight settled on her slowly. Elena felt secure and somehow safe between her hard, vampire lover, and the homey softness of the bed she'd slept in since childhood. She moaned when his weight set in and she felt the full length of his body, and oh, oh, the full length and hardness of his maleness against her. She couldn't take it anymore. There was one thing that always made her forget.

"Make love to me, Stefan. I want to feel you inside me."

With a serious look, Stefan pulled up onto his elbows. "Are you sure, Elena?"

This was their lovemaking routine. Stefan was careful never to overpower her, never to

pressure her. He never pushed the issue. Elena always had to ask for it, and even then, Stefan would always confirm that she was certain.

Elena flushed at his consideration. "Yes, Stefan, yes."

Stefan stood up and stripped quickly, while Elena did the same, and slid beneath the covers. Though he moved quickly, Elena stole a glimpse of his exposed abdominal muscles, his long, hard, marbley member.

He slipped beneath the covers and eased himself on top of her, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids. He positioned herself at her opening and paused again to ask if she was sure. She nodded, and he slipped himself into her tight, slick sex.

Elena moaned heavily as he rocked within her at a slow, steady pace. She rolled her hips against him, and he gasped. Quickening his pace, Stefan made love to her, his cool hardness against her warm softness, sighs against sighs, until with a deep moan, his seed exploded into her.

Elena kissed his moist forehead. Stefan smiled down at her. "I love you, Elena," he whispered, kissing her salty neck gently. "I love you, too, Stefan," Elena replied, "only you."

Stefan bounded out of bed and across the room in one motion, taking the blankets with him. "Only me? Only me? What does that mean, Elena? Why would you put it that way?"

Elena, shocked and humiliated, struggled to find her tank top and shorts, so quickly discarded before their lovemaking.

Stefan continued in a quick, angry half-whisper. "That's a strange thing to say, Elena. Whom are you reassuring that you love _only_ me? Who is unsure: me or you? You were thinking of Damon, weren't you? That whole time? While we made love?"

Horrified, Elena found her voice. "No, Stefan, no. How can you say that? How can you think that?"

"I know," Stefan growled. "What a fool I've been. I've seen the way you look at him. I won't be cuckolded a second time."

And he was gone. The spring breeze blew in the curtains. Elena looked out the window, but saw only empty night outside.


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Diary, _

_Everything is so confusing. Ever since the accident and Mom and Dad died, every time things begin to feel settled, the world starts shaking and everything gets knocked over. _

_I didn't get to finish my entry last night because all of a sudden, there was Stefan in my room. He's done that before – coming in through the window – but usually he likes to do things the conventional way – a call first, the front door. I think he wants me to feel as if we're a normal couple. As if I could ever feel normal again! Anyway, he came in and was all silent. He's been really quiet ever since Mr. Saltzman told us about Isobel - about my mother - wanting to see me. _

_So, he came in last night and was really uptight. I tried all of my best seductive tricks, but it only made him angry. It's scary when he's angry. He gets all tight and restrained, and I can feel the power wanting to break free. Is it strange, Diary, that as scary as that is, it kind of turns me on? _

_For a moment, we made out while he was angry and it did things for me that I can't explain. Then, he pulled back and apologized (no apologies needed!) and was his regular, loving, considerate self. We made love, and it was nice, but then, when it was over, I said something wrong. I don't even remember what! There we were, feeling all warm and good after sex, and all of a sudden he's jumping up and accusing me of thinking of Damon while we're making love! _

_Diary, I have to confess, sometimes I do think of Damon. Not when Stefan and I are together, of course, but lately Stefan's been kind of stepping back from me. It started when I made him drink my blood to save his life, and he got all blood-drunk. We still spend time together, but he's quieter and more reserved. He holds himself back from me. If I'm being completely honest, he's let me down. How could he allow himself to get in the state he was at the Miss Mystic Falls competition – to miss our dance, to prey on one of the other contestants? He knew how important this was to my mother! I couldn't even think of my mother, couldn't even imagine her face seeing me come down those stairs, when I had to wonder where Stefan was. Ever since I met him, everything always ends up being about him in the end._

_While Stefan's been stepping back, Damon's been stepping up. He is who he is, of course, and he is what he is, but sometimes it seems like with me he chooses to be someone else, something else. It would have been so easy for him to take advantage of me when we were on that trip to Atlanta and I didn't have my vervain necklace, but he didn't. When I asked him about it later, he said that we were having fun, and he wanted it to be real. What's weird, Diary, is that he was right: it was fun; it was real. Damon is fun. He makes me laugh, even when I don't want to, even in dark moments._

_Damon knew the right things to say when I found out I was adopted. He stayed with me and gave me silent support when we had to lock Stefan in the dungeon. It would have been so easy for him to mock me in that situation, to make it hard on me, but he didn't. He just made sure I wasn't alone._

_I can't deny or forget the terrible things he has done and still does. He's the villain in this story, Diary, and I know that. Still, lately, he's been coming to the rescue a lot. There have been big rescues, like at the Miss Mystic Falls competition, and when the tomb vamps got Stefan, but there are the small rescues too, like when he knows when to give me that smile, or when not to let me take myself so seriously._

_Stefan is my hero, my love. Damon is something else. What is he? That I don't know. But I know that Isobel was wrong when she said that it was dangerous to have them around. I know she was just trying to push my buttons and Stefan's when she asked if I was having both brothers, like Katherine, and that Damon loves me._

_That must be where all of this is coming from! Stefan heard all of that. I saw his face fall. Her manipulation is working on him. He believed all of those lies! He believes Isobel more than me! He's still just as bruised and broken by Katherine as his brother, and he thinks in the end, I'll break his heart the same way._

_Stefan is so precious to me, Diary. After my parents died, I felt so alone and vulnerable. Aunt Jenna does her best, but she's still young and finding herself. She can't make me feel safe, can't make the darkness disappear. Stefan does that for me. I sleep more soundly in his arms. His strong arms are like a stone fortress that nothing can penetrate to hurt me._

_Things are rough right now between us because of all that's happened since the tomb was opened, but I know we can work it out. I know that he'll step up and be my hero again. But how can I make him trust me? How can I help him to see that it's him who is home for me? _

_Oh God! The way he left last night! Do you think he's left again, Diary? What if I can't win him back? _


	4. Chapter 4

As the morning sun climbed in the sky, Damon sat on the sofa at the boarding house, facing a fading fire. Empty glass decanters lay scattered and empty on every surface and on the floor. He held a tumbler in his hand and nursed the last few drops of bourbon left. He'd been up all night, not that it mattered. Sleep was just a way to pass the time.

_What am I still doing in this shit town?_ He chastised himself silently. _You've let yourself be emasculated, brought down to Stefan's level. Uck. Stefan._

For the umpteenth time since he'd been lectured by Saint Stefan, he recounted to himself all of the indignities he's suffered since following him back to Mystic Falls. He'd been publicly humiliated when it was revealed that Katherine was never in the tomb. He'd been made to answer for his kills, for the people he'd turned. _For fuck's sake, I'm a vampire. I can't be made to apologize for eating or for playing with my food. _This town is so boring, even as filled with ghosts as it is. It's boring, and fuck knows it's hard enough to stay amused for one hundred sixty five years and counting without spending them all here.

Of all of the indignities he'd been subjected to, Isobel had heaped the worst on him last night. _It's my own fault. I showed her all my cards when I tried to warn her off. How stupid am I – how stupid does Elena make me – that I mentioned her by name to Isobel? That's just the sort of tell that _I _use to get inside someone's head, to make them do what I want. I hardly ever need to use compulsion, and I manage to get most vampires to do my bidding too, just by finding those sweet spots. How could I give my own away like that?_

Now, Isobel had put his only shame out there. Damon's exploits with Caroline, with Matt's mother, with any number of willing and unwilling girls – hey, even some boys – brought him no shame. But this, this was too much. To have Isobel tell Stefan, tell _Elena_ that he was in love with her, it was too much to bear. He held his own when Stefan came home and gave his jealous boyfriend lecture, but only because Stefan was revealing his own, all too tempting sweet spot – he was afraid that Damon could make Elena love him.

This, too, was replayed again and again in Damon's mind, turned over and examined from every angle all night as he drank enough to kill ten Dylan Thomases. He knew that Elena appreciated his looks. He'd seen her looking. Hey, who wouldn't? Even in life, female attention had been easy to get and hard to avoid. School girls giggled, his mother's friends lingered unnecessarily to be alone in the room with him, the pastor's wife had said some unchristian things. All women looked. He'd been around long enough not to confuse a look with emotion or even with an intention to act.

They'd had fun in Atlanta together. That trip was the first time in a very long time that the boredom had ceased for Damon. He drank and drank, but his vampire metabolism burned off the alcohol too quickly for it to shut off his mind as it obsessed over little things he'd let pass before. Twice, twice he knew for sure he had aroused something in her. The first time was when he'd put her vervain necklace back on for her a few months back. She'd come over to dare him to compel her to tell the truth, but he needed no compulsion to trust her. When he'd brushed her hair aside and reached his hands around her neck to fasten the gasp, his vampiric hearing had not missed the way her breath caught for just an instant. For most humans, this could be a sign of fear, but he smelled no fear on her then. The second time was at that dance for the Miss Mystic Falls competition. As they'd moved together without touching, doing that dance from his youth, he'd been amused by all of the signs of her ripeness. He'd heard her heartbeat quicken, felt her body temperature rise, even smelled just a hint of the musk of feminine arousal. When he'd stepped forward to finally take her in his arms, he'd heard the way her breath stopped.

But that was lust. Lust was easy. Lust was animal. Damon knew he could get a physical response from Elena, from any woman, from most boys. The power to command physical response, to send blood pumping and juices flowing, was fun and useful to have, but Damon knew that lust meant nothing. It was no different from the mouth watering and the stomach growling in front of a steak or a slice of chocolate cake. The body hungers.

Elena's lust meant nothing. It meant nothing to Damon to get her blood pumping and juices flowing if it were Stefan who got to ride that warm body and lap up those rich juices. Elena would not be swayed to infidelity by arousal. As much as her face said otherwise, she was not Katherine. Elena would not surrender to her animal nature for nothing but carnal pleasure. Damon knew that, and surely Stefan was not so stupid to think otherwise. So, if Stefan was so obviously pathetically jealous and fearful of Damon, it was because Stefan thought Elena might have more than lust for Damon. Stefan must think that Elena loves Damon, too.

_Enough! Enough! I won't be this pathetic, mooning creature! I'll leave that to Stefan! _Damon's contemplative reverie was broken by a rush of anger. _Enough with these Pierce bitches – Katherine, Isobel, Elena – castrating me with their manipulations! Enough!_

Damon threw a crystal decanter, faster than a major league fastball, at the doorframe, just as the door opened and Elena walked in.


	5. Chapter 5

Elena winced and sidestepped to avoid the projectile crystal decanted hurtling at her head faster than she'd like to imagine.

"Quite a welcome," Elena quipped, attempting levity as she surveyed the scene. Empty bottles were everywhere; the fire was just embers. It was as if a fraternity had moved into the boarding house for party night. She'd never seen it in such disarray. Damon himself was little better. His hair was mussed and he looked, for once, ungroomed. Still, he was far from a bad sight. He was dressed as if for bed, shirtless with black silk satin pajama pants, though from the looks of things he hadn't slept.

"I didn't expect company," Damon replied coldly. Elena noticed that there was no mirth in his blue eyes, no mischievous smile at his lips. This was not how she was accustomed to being greeted. He stood near the couch and made no move toward her.

"I – I thought I might speak to Stefan for a few minutes before school," Elena explained, feeling the need to justify her presence in the Salvatore boarding house to Damon for the first time. "Is he still upstairs?"

"Haven't seen him since last night. Thought he was with you. Looks like your loving boyfriend must still be out draining Bambi's mother," Damon said flatly, turning his back on Elena and stalking across the room, pausing now and then to check bottles for any last drops of bourbon. "So I guess you can scoot along to the pep rally alone then. The quarterback will have to meet you later."

Elena closed the front door and closed the distance between them. She noticed his muscular v-shaped back, pale and beautiful against the low slung back silk. His lines drew her eyes downward. She couldn't help observing the smoothness of the line of his thin pants over his firm ass – there was no way he was wearing anything underneath. Apprehensive for more than one reason, her throat grew dry. She began hesitantly, "Actually, Damon, I think, um, I think we need to…"

She was silenced suddenly as Damon spun around, his icy blue eyes darkening, black veins beginning to appear below them. "What's the matter with you? You can't be this stupid. Can't you even take a shower first before coming here? That's just tacky."

Once the door was closed, shutting out the morning air and she had approached him, Damon's nostrils had been filled with the faint but unmistakable fading scent of sex and Stefan. Fury, jealously, and a strange sense of betrayed ownership flooded him.

Elena blushed scarlet from her hairline to the neck of her scooped tee. She'd cried all night and hadn't been thinking straight this morning.

Damon eyed her up and down now with a predator's gaze. He stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders roughly, holding back his full strength, but allowing her to feel his menace. "Who do you think I am, Elena? What do you think I am, that you invite yourself here to have a heart to heart with me while reeking of fucking my brother?"

Elena struggled to find her voice. She'd known that this side of Damon existed, but he'd rarely shown it to her and she didn't know how to react. "I – I came for Stefan, but anyway – I mean in any case, after what Isobel –" Elena stuttered incoherently, trying to regain her purpose and composure, as Damon moved forward, forcing her to step back, following his lead in a dark echo of their dance as the Miss Mystic Falls competition. Once again, with Damon filling in for Stefan's unexpected absence.

The cool wall found Elena's back and Damon closed her in. For an instant, each of them was overcome with association. Elena's memory flashed to that moment, all too recently, when Stefan had backed her into a wall and she saved herself and him with a shot of vervain. There was no vervain now. Damon's sense memory brought him back to just days ago when he'd laid down the law with his unmanageable daughter in blood - Elena's mother, Isobel.

With Damon so close, his fingers pressing hard into her upper arms, his body pressed against hers, the wall unyielding at her back, she felt heady with fear and unexpected arousal. She could look nowhere else but his features, usually so lovely as to border on feminine, now transformed into something else, dark and dangerous. Transfixed, she said nothing and did nothing. For a moment, she feared that he was compelling her into immobility, but she still felt the weight of the vervain-filled pendant Stefan had given her at her throat.

Damon pressed against her, testing his will by balancing the need to demonstrate his strength and his danger to her without taking it too far and actually hurting her. This was, after all, still Elena, even if she was behaving badly, somehow managing to emasculate both very masculine Salvatore brothers.

Still holding her hard with one hand, Damon took the other to caressingly move the hair from her neck. He leaned in and grazed his fangs from her earlobe to her collarbone. "What do you think I am, Elena? I'm an animal," he growled.

Elena could feel the growl his chest, pressed tightly against hers. As he leaned in to her, she was dizzied by the smell of him, metallic, spicy and masculine, like copper with cedar and amber. When she felt his sharp teeth scratching along her throat, she bit back a whimper, terrified even as she felt herself flush now from arousal, not embarrassment.

Still holding her to the wall with measured force, Damon slid his free hand under her tee-shirt, over her flat, quivering stomach, around her smooth back. Even as he challenged her about his nature, he wondered how well he knew it himself. Everything in this moment brought out his predatory nature – the feel her warm body and young muscles, so weak compared to his cold, old ones, so easy to dominate; her scent, fruity from some silly teen body spray, the lingering odor of her sex with his brother quickly and increasingly overwhelmed by fresh fear and fresh arousal. She was delicious and begging to be devoured. He fought against every instinct not to tear into her in two ways at once.

"Do you feel safe with me, Elena? Do you think I'm tame, like your Saint Stefan?" His mouth was more urgent now against her neck, his teeth scratching harder now even has his lips caressed her up to her earlobe, down along the low scoop of her tee. Sensation engulfed her, and she was not sure if she should moan or scream, or both. "I'm an animal, and you're my prey."

His lips found her mouth with an urgent, demanding kiss. Elena was shocked into stillness once again, but just for a moment before she surprised them both by kissing him back, meeting Damon' urgency with her own. Damon pulled his mouth back to her neck, his free hand slipping further up her shirt, under her bra, gently playing with her nipple. Now, she couldn't resist it. Elena let out a moan from deep within her.

Damon surged with her moan. It urged on the predator within him. His preternatural senses were abuzz with Elena. Her pulse raced against his lips, calling him to drink. He could feel the blood race throughout her body, warming her, making her almost too hot to hold. The scent of her fear and the musk of her arousal were clearer than his vision to his animal senses. "Do you think this silly necklace would protect you from me, Elena? I could snap your neck, drink you dry, without touching it. I could snap its thread of a chain and compel you however I want. Why do you insist on coming so close to me? What sort of death-wish do you have?"

Damon ground against her and Elena gasped in pain and need at the feel of his erection, barely masked under the thin silk. "I'm not tame, Elena. I'm an animal, and so are you," Damon growled against her neck as he kissed the vulnerable, soft flesh above her collarbone, his fingers flicking and teasing her nipple. She was amazed at Damon's strange and sweet mix of force and tenderness as he touched her. She had no idea of the restraint, the battle that Damon was having within himself to keep this moment from total bloody brutality.

Removing his hand from her shoulder, Damon unbuttoned her jeans and lowered the zipper with taunting slowness. He traced his fingers along the edge of her soaked cotton panties while his other hand continued its gentle work at her breast. Kissing and licking at her neck with a whisper touch, he teased her now by withholding force. "Say no, Elena. You've said it before. Slap me, Elena, you've done it before. Say no, and I'll stop. I can force you, but I won't give you that excuse," he purred.

Elena tried to find voice to refuse, to accuse, but instead she found only a deep moan. She ground into him, angling herself up to make better contact with his hardness. Damon responded by bypassing the ineffective barrier of her white cotton panties, stabbing a cool finger to her sleek, ready, wet sex. She gasped at the force and the suddenness, but then found his mouth with her own, meeting his urgent kisses with urgency of her own. Elena was frenzied with lust and pure animal physical sensation. She felt her passion building, building, with astonishing quickness. Her tongue meshed with Damon's, fought feebly for dominance. Her hands wrapped around his back, gripped at the tight muscles as they rippled from his sensual grinding against her. She found his hair, so beautifully mussed already, and gave it a firm tug. Damon growled wordlessly and rocked against her.

Then, their kiss became suddenly metallic. Her tongue had found one of Damon's needle fangs. The penetration somehow flooded through her, bringing her close to the edge of orgasm. _If this is only a scratched tongue,_ Elena began to think, but then all thoughts subsided.

The taste of Elena's blood filled Damon's mouth. He could hold back his animal need no longer. The adrenaline of bloodlust pumped through his system. With the last of his will, he dragged himself off of her, leaving her panting against the wall.

"Get out," he growled lowly.

"Damon, I – " Elena began.

"GET OUT!" Damon roared.

Flustered and crying, jeans still unzipped, Elena ran out the door.


	6. Chapter 6 Gaining Distance I: Stefan

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries in any way - it all belongs to LJ Smith and the CW team. I just like to daydream about it and let you in, for my pleasure and, I hope, yours.**

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A/N – I'm flattered by the reviews, faves, and subscriptions my first grouping of chapters has received. Thanks for your support, and please keep it coming! I'm new at this so your feedback is especially meaningful. I love praise, but if you have any constructive criticism to offer, send it along too since I aim to grow.

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This chapter is Stefan-centric, but it adds to the stress of the love triangle and builds suspense. Delena fans, please be patient. You'll get the lemons you're waiting for all in good time, and a good time it will be.

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Recap of Thursday Night (Chapters 1-3):

Stefan was troubled by Isobel's remarks about Damon and Elena, and his conversation with Damon back at the boarding house hadn't improved matters. Seeking consolation, he went to Elena's house, where they made love. Still, Stefan was on edge and Elena said the wrong thing; Stefan interpreted it as a hint of Elena's secret feelings for Damon, and he left through the window, enraged. Elena, confused and hurt, wrote in her diary and wept.

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Thursday night / Early Friday morning:

Stefan had no idea how long he had been running.

In truth, Stefan had no ideas at all.

His jealousy and rage at the thought that Elena may be entertaining feelings for his brother was so repulsive, so indigestible, that he had reached inside his vampiric mind and turned it _OFF_.

He'd entered the woods after he landed, catlike, on his feet outside of Elena's window. He hadn't taken his car that night since he didn't want to attract Aunt Jenna's attention with the motor. It was just as well. Stefan's fury boiled in his borrowed blood. Walking home through the woods, avoiding the roads, was a good way to get his thoughts together – and perhaps find a midnight snack to calm the nerves.

Hands in pockets, he'd begun a slow stroll through the trees. The night was cool, early spring, and if he weren't so upset, it was just the sort of beautiful night that could make him feel almost alive.

He tried to subdue his wrath by focusing upon the sensations of the woods – the twigs breaking beneath his feet, the crunch of dead leaves, the smell of earth and pines, the thrum of the beating blood of the small creatures hidden within – but he could not. Another sensation, a sound, wouldn't let him go, no matter how much distance he tried to put between it and him.

When Elena's parents had died, he was horrified at how frail and unprotected Elena was. The world as Stefan knew it was filled with danger, natural and unnatural. Elena was human, and that was delicate enough, but without her parents she was also alone, and that he could not bear.

He vowed to himself to become an invisible protector, a guardian angel. He would watch over her and she would not even know he was there. That was the plan. Of course, he did not have the willpower to keep his distance for long. He'd needed to know her.

Over the past year, he had put great effort into becoming attuned to Elena. His vampiric senses and abilities were substantially weaker than those of vampires who drank human blood regularly. He had forgotten just how blunted his senses had become until he had his foray into human blood recently, but now, Stefan was keenly aware of his relative deficiencies.

Even at his weakest, Stefan had never lost his preternatural vision. It was this that allowed him to be such an effective hunter in the woods. He could see, literally, for miles. The slightest twitch of movement could attract his attention.

Stefan's hearing and smell, however, had diminished long ago, inadvertently disposed of when he abandoned his predatory nature.

If he were going to protect Elena, he'd known he would have to retrain these senses as best he could. His "vegetarian" diet limited his potential for expansion, but he knew with hard work, he could train himself to recognize the sounds and scents of any particular creature – just not all creatures, as more nourished vamps could.

To hone his efforts more quickly, Stefan had worked on developing one sense at a time. Out of respect for Elena's modesty, he'd chosen hearing over smell. He had learned the particular beat of Elena's blood, pace of her breathing, the change in the pitch of her voice when she lied, the different timbres of her sighs and moans. Over time and with practice, he could hear her from great distances.

So when Stefan left Elena's house late Thursday night, instead of hearing the croaking of toads, the chirping of crickets, the rustle of feathers, and the crunch of twigs, all Stefan could hear for miles and miles were Elena's sobs.

His leisurely, contemplative pace quickened. _I hate to hear her cry. _

His empathy for her sobs racked him with guilt as he tried to breathe in the cool Spring night air, scented so headily with night-blooming flowers.

_I am not the one who has to feel guilty. Elena is breaking my heart, not the other way around._

Stefan's feet fell faster now, racing to put distance between him and Elena's aching, wracking sobs.

_I have betrayed no one. Elena is not crying for me. She is crying because she's been found out._

The trees went by in a blur now. He felt the skin around his eyes tingle as his feral features emerged.

_Elena can't keep her eyes off of Damon. I can hear the way her pulse changes when he enters the room. _

Large branches of trees cracked and fell as Stefan ran by, oblivious to any obstacle.

_The way her breathing hitched when she hugged Damon outside of the tomb. The whispered flirtations she thinks I cannot hear when she arrives and Damon answers the door. _

Stefan was on all fours now, running with animal force and grace, but with a speed that was unmatched in nature.

_She is on her way to betraying me, to sleeping with Damon, if she has not already. It's Katherine all over again. I would protect her from anything. I have stayed in this town and suffered torture to stay close to her and protect her. Lexi died as a result of my need to be near her. But Katherine – Elena – cares nothing for all that. Nothing._

_Nothing aside from Damon. _

Enraged and pained, Stefan let out a keening, inhuman roar. If he had been able to take his mind away from Elena to hear them, he would have heard the forest still itself in horror.

Then Stefan felt it – the niggling memory that he did not have to feel guilt for Elena's tears. He did not have to feel pain at Elena's betrayal. He didn't have to feel anything at all.

Still running, Stefan dipped into the deepest shadows of his mind and flipped the switch, allowing his full animal nature to take over.

Immediately, there was relief. No thoughts at all. Elena was gone, and so was most of Stefan.


	7. Chapter 7 Gaining Distance II: Damon

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries in any way - it all belongs to LJ Smith and the CW team. I just like to daydream about it and let you in, for my pleasure and, I hope, yours.**

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**A/N **– A bad boy is a bad boy, and Damon is a bad, bad boy.

**WARNING**: **Not for children.** Damon/OC dark smutty lemon. Harsh language and imagery, but all for the sake of story and character development.

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Recap of Friday morning (Chapters 4-5):

Damon stayed up all night drinking and thinking over the events of the previous days, growing increasingly angry and resentful at Elena and Isobel for gaining the upper hand over him. When Elena unexpectedly arrived looking for Stefan and still scented from their intimate encounter the night before, Damon got aggressive and things quickly grew heated. Just when things seemed to be reaching their pinnacle, Elena pricked her tongue on one of Damon's fangs, and Damon forced her to leave since he was unable to control his bloodlust any longer.

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Friday night, the Salvatore Boarding House:

Damon was not in a good state. In fact, ever since he had chased Elena out of the house that morning, just narrowly avoiding succumbing to both bloodlust and, well, plain old lust, Damon had been a combination of several bad states: angry, hungry, and sexually frustrated.

_And it's my own fault_, Damon berated himself silently. _Why the Hell would I __avoid__ succumbing to lust and bloodlust? She was willing. And Hell, even if she weren't, I could have made her willing. I am still me, and it's pretty easy for me to get a woman to be willing._

_This has got to be one of the shittiest weeks in the last hundred years, _Damon complained to himself as he brushed the splintered remains of the crystal decanter into a dustpan. _And now, on top of it all, housework. We have got to compel a maid. It wouldn't be a bad thing for security for a human to live here anyway._

As he moved about the living room, tidying up from last night's bender, he replayed the morning's events in his mind: Elena arriving, filthy with the smell of Stefan's sex. Confronting her with his nature, and hers. The edible, fuckable, smell of her once he'd aroused her. The feel of her body pinned against his. The slickness of hot, ready, snatch. The taste of her blood in his mouth. _She moaned for me. _

He rolled the sensations over in his mind, and found his hunger and arousal rising – eyes reddening slightly and cock beginning to harden at the same sensual memories. For a moment, he imagined if he had not chased her out when the taste of her blood drove him mad – if he had instead listened to every instinct and plunged into her, teeth into neck and cock into snatch at once.

_I can't believe I let her get to me. Again. _ _And after all that, no satisfaction: no blood, no lay. Not my idea of a good morning. _

Damon pushed aside the gnawing truth that it had been he who cut things off, he who threw Elena out just when she was throwing herself at him. _I'm so sick of that fucking tease. _He consoled himself dishonestly.

Crossing the room to toss the shards in the waste bin, Damon caught sight of himself in the mirror. He paused, displeased with the sight. Skin? Dull. Eyes? Mopey. Mouth? A sullen line. _Too much family resemblance tonight, baby brother, _Damon said to the Stefan in his mind. _I think I'll leave the brooding to you._

_As for me, I think I'll go scratch an itch or two, _Damon decided, and instantly, his reflection brightened. He shot himself a mischievous grin and went to get showered and changed. _After all, they do say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone, don't they?_

Two hours later, Damon pulled up his sleek black vintage Mustang alongside a fire hydrant in a seedy part of downtown Richmond.

He reached over into the glove box and pulled out the kit he kept there for just this occasion. Damon removed a pewter ankh pendant and a black eyeliner pencil from a zippered velvet cylinder. Flicking down the visor to reveal the mirror, he rimmed his gleaming blue eyes heavily with the back kohl and fastened the chain holding the ankh around the neck. He glanced down at the pendant hanging down just above his pecs, the only accessory needed over the sheer black mesh shirt he wore.

Looking back at the mirror, he willed his vampire features to show themselves and his blue eyes reddened, the skin around them became dark and webbed with veins. His fans emerged. He smiled wickedly.

"There now," he said out loud, "I'm ready to go where everyone knows my name, and they're always glad I came."

_Hot Topic, I don't know how to thank you, _Damon thought to himself as he walked past a line of girls waiting for admission to the nightclub. Cheap black satin corsets propelled their breasts up and together, a feeble imitation of the shapewear fashion of Damon's youth, but he leeringly appreciated the effect in any case. Others wore shiny black vinyl. _All the better to hose fluids off of,_ Damon thought. Damon appraised the buffet: Fishnets, lace, mesh, bloomers, petticoats, buckles and laces. Red lips/ black fingernails, black lips/red fingernails. _All you can eat._

Damon bypassed the line, walking straight toward the bouncer. He patted the large man on the back as he walked in. "Good to see you back, Damon, it's been a while." "Yeah, Vlad, good to see you to," Damon replied without so much as glancing at him. He was more interested in the work ahead of him than socializing.

Inside, all surfaces vibrated to the electronic beat. Apoptygma Berzerk, Damon recognized, "Love Never Dies." It's convenient that Gothic/Industrial bands stay popular for so long, he thought. Makes keeping up and blending in that much easier. Pacing his glide to the beat now, Damon approached the bar nearest the dance floor.

At his approach, the bartender brightened. "Damon, man," the barman greeted him, his eyes lasciviously sliding along Damon's pecs, and stuttering on his ridged abdominal muscles, highlighted by the play of light and shadows through the mesh tee, "long time no see. The usual?"

"Yeah, Jeff, but make it two," Damon replied.

"Two Red Devils it is then. On the house for an old friend." The bartender mixed the red concoctions and pushed them across the bar. Damon shot the bartender a sexy smile as payment.

A drink in each hand, Damon surveyed his prey. So many options. So many girls here who don't flinch at all at the sight of fangs. The tall redhead leaning against the wall in a whorish take on a Victorian mourning gown caught his eye but did nothing for him. The blond with yarn extensions in exaggerated ponytails, her hot pink vinyl top dipping low, almost to reveal her nipples. _Tasty, I'm sure, but not tonight._

_Ah, that's the one._ Damon moved toward a petite girl with long, straight black hair, hanging lankly from a center part. Her dark eyes were heavily lined with liquid black liner. It was clear that her lips had been painted red earlier in the night, but all that remained now was a slight stain. _Elena's less attractive gothy cousin, _Damon quipped to himself.

"Found your drink," Damon said, "silly you, you left it at the bar." He grinned his most charming mischievous grin, making sure his prey got full view of his fangs.

The girl didn't smile back, but it was clear that this was through deliberate effort on her part. _Now, if she would only lift her chin defiantly. . . . _Her eyes took him in from his red eyes down to his visibly muscled abdomen. Though she worked hard to appear unimpressed, Damon could already smell her budding arousal. _Oh, this is way too easy, _Damon thought, _but tonight is not about the thrill of the hunt._

"You are?" she asked, reaching out and to take the drink.

"Damon," he replied, taking her hand and kissing it sensuously. Her eyes hazed with her growing desire, but again she feigned at nonchalance.

"Nice fangs, Damon. I'm Lucretia. Where'd you have them made?"

"Oh, this guy up in DC did them custom for me. You wouldn't imagine what they cost me," Damon replied. "You like?" he asked, arching an eyebrow flirtatiously.

"I do," she replied, smiling now as she sipped her potent drink. "Are they just for show, or are they functional?"

Damon grinned. He had her now. _So easy. _"More functional than you'd think," he replied. Damon used a surge in the volume of the music as an excuse to lean in much closer and speak directly into her ear. He sensed her shiver with anticipation as he murmered, "What do you say, Lucretia? Do you like a little bloodplay?"

"I do," Lucretia replied, attempting a husky tone. _Oh, goth clubs are like candy __asking__ to be eaten, _Damon observed. _ If enough wannabe vamp poseurs drink enough blood in a town, a real vampire can just slip right in._

"Let's find some privacy then, Sugar," Damon purred into her ear, sliding his hand down her neck, along her shoulder, and slowly down the length of her arm to take her hand. He led her though the crowd into the ladies' room and into a stall in the back.

Damon backed Lucretia against the metal stall door and kissed her mouth without mercy, allowing his fangs to dip into her lower lip, into her tongue. _This time, _Damon thought, _this will end differently. _As soon as he tasted her blood, thick and intoxicating on his tongue, Damon knew she had not lied about liking previous bloodplay: she tasted of Hepatitis B. _Good think real vampires can't catch or transmit disease, like these dumb human wannabes can, _Damon thought, still suckling greedily on her bleeding mouth, _that would be a real buzz kill._

Lucretia had given up her nonchalance now. She moaned with abandon, pulling at his hair and grinding her hips against his hard groin. She didn't understand why, but somehow these tiny cuts in her mouth spread ecstasy through her whole body. She wanted to bleed _more, _and said so. "More," Lucretia begged, "more."

"Ask and you shall receive," Damon growled. He left her bleeding mouth and kissed down her neck, finding her sensitive spots and making Lucretia pant with desire. Running his hand up past the tops of her fishnet thigh-highs, he discovered that Lucretia wore a garter belt to hold up the hosiery, but no panties beneath her short, tight, black leather skirt. "Someone was hoping for a fun night out, I see," Damon jibed as he ran his fingers teasingly through her slick, engorged folds.

Lucretia moaned heavily and arched her back against him, pressing forward her corseted breasts. "Now that just doesn't look comfortable," Damon said, and scooped one white out from its prison. He flicked at the nipple and Lucretia grasped at his back, clawing for purchase against the drowning tide of sensation.

Not one to offer mercy, Damon lowered his head suddenly and sank his teeth into the blue vein in her breast right above the nipple. Lucretia felt the pain and then elation as Damon lapped her life from her breast. She was sinking into a warm, soft, black velvet abyss. Even though he had taken his hands off her some time earlier, Damon could taste in her blood and feel in her pulse that Lucretia was about to ride over the edge. "You're one eager slut, aren't you, Lucretia," he uttered harshly, even as he wrapped an arm behind her back to support her as she lost all sentient thought, racked with the spasms of the flooding orgasm that can only come at the edge of death.

Sated well enough with Lucretia's blood, and not really wanting or needed to kill her, Damon reluctantly pulled his fangs out of her breast and let her ride out her orgasm, indelicately flapping spasmodically in his arms. When it was finally over, Damon flipped her around and planted her hands against the stall door, supporting her hips with one hand. She was too weak to hold herself up, but still willing and wanting more. She circled her hips obscenely against Damon's groin, seeking friction against his hard cock.

Damon ran a hand up her exposed backside and gave it a slap – not hard enough to injure, but hard enough to smart. Lucretia's hips jerked toward the stall door and she let out a load yelp of passion and pain. "That one was for the way you showed up this morning," Damon murmured to himself. He smoothed his hand over her backside, ready to give another slap when he noticed an Eye of Ra tattoo on one cheek. "Like the Sisters of Mercy much, Lucretia?" he teased.

Languid from her blood loss and the power of her climax, Lucretia smiled dreamily and replied, "Yeah, aren't you?"

"Yes," Damon replied, "they were delicious."

Without warning and without any more hesitation, Damon plunged his cock's full length into Lucretia's more than ready sheath. She howled in pain and pleasure at the impact. Keeping her upright by holding onto her hips, and bracing her hands against the stall door, Damon pounded into Lucretia, holding back only enough not to cause her injury. With each thrust, Lucretia yelped in heat. When he pulled back, she moaned in disappointment and used her feeble waning energy to push back against him, seeking more and more contact. It wasn't long before she came a second time, spasming around his cock and bringing Damon over the edge. He wrapped one arm around her waist to support her as he exploded, spilling his hot seed inside of her.

Damon fixed his pants and readjusted Lucretia's skirt. Her eyes were glazed over. She was senseless now, from blood loss and ecstasy. Carefully, he knicked his thumb on one of his canines to draw a small drop of his blood. Damon ran his bloody thumb along her wounded breast and watched it heal, then along her punctured lip and tongue, erasing the evidence of the more violent aspects of their encounter.

"There now, Lucretia." Damon said, lifting her into his arms tenderly, her dark hair falling back away from her face as her head dropped back. "Sleep well, and your body will replace that blood soon enough. You're sure to have one nasty headache in the morning, though. You've been fun, but good night now." Damon carried her out from the bathroom and laid her carefully on a red velvet couch off the dance floor.

Damon approached Jeff, the bartender, and flashed a winning grin. "Gave another one the ride of her life, huh, Damon? When's it going to be my turn?"

Damon smirked and gave the bartender a hundred dollar bill. "This is to make sure she gets home safe, okay, Jeff?" Damon asked, putting the force of compulsion behind his stare.

"Yeah, yeah," the bartender sighed. "Same as always."

As Damon climbed into his Mustang out front, he was troubled by a nagging feeling. Even after all that, he was still far from satisfied. No random lay was going to take the edge of this need. No random drink was going to slake this thirst.

She wasn't Elena and only Elena was on his mind as he turned the engine over and headed back to Mystic Falls.


	8. Chapter 8 Gaining Distance III: Elena

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****The Vampire Diaries**** in any way - it all belongs to LJ Smith and the CW team. I just like to daydream about it and let you in, for my pleasure and, I hope, yours.**

**A/N: Thanks everyone for your patience and support. I'm sorry for the long delay. I'm committed to getting story finished before the new season begins, and I hope to make it worth your wait!**

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Friday Morning, at the Salvatore Boarding House:

Elena's tongue eagerly explored Damon's mouth – the urgency of his tongue, the sharpness of his teeth and then – _ouch_ – his fang nicked her tongue, penetrating it slightly. Their mouths filled with the coppery taste of her blood, and suddenly an aching, melting ecstasy flowed through Elena's veins, intensifying all sensation. She felt his mouth merging with her mouth, his finger stroking inside her, his body pressed against her, and she began to see stars._ If this is only a scratched tongue,_ Elena began to think, but then all thoughts subsided.

And then, nothing.

Elena leaned, panting against the wall as Damon shot across the room. Standing on the far side of the parlor with a posture of animal menace, his red vampiric eyes bright, he growled in a low voice: "Get out."

Confused and reeling from the loss of sensation, Elena struggled for words. She stuttered

out, "Damon, I – "

Damon interrupted her with a roar: "GET OUT!"

Tears flooded Elena's eyes and she turned and fled out the door, her jeans still unzipped.

Elena dashed to her car and threw herself into the driver's seat. She fumbled through her pocketbook, but couldn't find her keys. In frustration, she dumped out all of the contents of her purse onto the passenger's seat and grabbed the keys, leaving the rest of the mess scattered. Her shaking fingers struggled to get the key into the ignition, but she managed and drove to school through tear-blurred eyes.

In the parking lot, Elena tried to pull herself together and gather her things to get to class – she was already nearly late for first period - , but as soon as she dried her tear-stained face, a fresh wave of humiliation struck her and brought up racking sobs. She leaned her head against the steering wheel and allowed herself to let go for a few minutes. Then, she sat up and flipped down the mirror. _Get it together, Gilbert, _she told herself. _If you keep up all this crying you're going to dehydrate yourself._

She dried her face off once again, reapplied her lipgloss, then saw Bonnie crossing the parking lot. Elena allowed herself to feel a bit of hope at the sight of her best friend. Stefan and all of the vampire stuff had come between them recently, but the other day when Bonnie came over to her house, it seemed like she was ready to forgive. After all, if she wasn't ready to forgive, she would never have done the spell to disenchant Johnathan Gilbert's invention. It would be so good to talk this all out with someone who knows the truth about Stefan and Damon.

"Bonnie!" Elena called out, grabbing her bag and quickly hopping out of the car, slamming the door behind her. "Bonnie! Wait up!"

For a moment, it looked to Elena as if Bonnie began walking faster, but then she slowed, and stopped. "Bonnie! Hi! Wait up! I need to talk!" Elena called to her. Bonnie waited.

Elena jogged to meet her, but Bonnie didn't smile her hug her hello. Bonnie clutched her books to her chest and seemed to be looking at something far away in the distance behind Elena's head.

"Bonnie, thank God I ran into you," Elena said, catching up to walk beside her. "I really need to talk. I'm having the weirdest twenty-four hours and I need you to help me. Last night, when I met Isobel to give her the invention, she said the strangest things, then Stefan and I had a fight, then this morning when I went over there to talk about it, Damon –"

"I'm sorry Elena. I can't talk. I'm late." Bonnie interrupted, looking at Elena now from the side of her eyes.

Elena turned her face, still stiff with the salt of the morning's tears, and examined Bonnie. "You have study hall first period today with Mrs. Port. She's a thousand years old and never takes attendance. She'll never know if you miss it."

Bonnie sighed and gave Elena a strange, pained look. "I can't. I – I just have to go."

"Bonnie, I – I need a friend."

"I can't talk. I can't. Just – um, just leave me out of it, okay?" And with that, Bonnie quickened her pace, leaving Elena behind.

Stung, Elena went to class and her first three classes passed by her without her taking any notice of them. She was lost in her own head. Humiliated thoughts circled in her mind:_ After all of that cat and mouse, all of that flirtation, there Damon and I are, making out and I am so willing, and Damon just throws me out. How am I supposed to look Damon in the face now? How do you just take your hand out of a girl's pants and throw her out? Who was I back there, reacting like that, _moaning_ like that? Damon must be laughing his head off about all of this now!_

In the cafeteria during lunch, Elena found Caroline. Even if she could not talk to Caroline about the vampire situation, she thought Caroline would be all for doling out advice about dating one hot brother and making out with the other. It seemed right up her alley. Elena started to tell her, but then Caroline scrunched her eyes and said, "It just can't be all about you right now, Elena. I've got the Founder's Day parade to get ready for, and you can't steal the spotlight from me on that, no matter how hard you try."

Then, Caroline just got up and left, and Elena knew she had no one she could turn to with this dilemma, no friend to be a sounding board or a shoulder to cry on. Bonnie had acted so strangely. (Actually, Bonnie had been acting kind of weird ever since the spell on the Gilbert invention at Stefan and Damon's house the other night, now that Elena thought about it.) Caroline needed her moment to shine. Aunt Jenna is sweet and she tries to be cool, but Elena knew how uncomfortable it made her just to see her dance with Damon at the Miss Mystic Falls competition. She thinks he's too old for Elena. If she only knew! Elena didn't remotely want to talk to Jeremy about sex and boys, but at least he knew about the vampire stuff, now. He was still so upset about all of the things he learned from Elena's journal that she had kept from him that he hasn't said a kind word to her in days.

Later that day, in history class, Elena observed Stefan's empty seat._ He must still be out hunting,_ she thought. She felt guilty at her relief, then imagined him there and having to face him after what happened this morning. Panic started to build in the pit of her stomach. Mr. Saltzman was droning on and on about who knows what. The Civil War, probably. It was as if history ended in 1865 for Mystic Falls. Who knows, who cares. Elena could concentrate on none of that. Her eyes were drawn over to Stefan's empty seat, and shame filled her.

_I've done just what Stefan is most afraid of. Stefan's not perfect, but he's a good man. He deserves a girlfriend he can trust alone in a room with his brother. Damon made sure to let me know that anything we did, the responsibility was on me as much as on him, and I know he was right. I could have left when Stefan wasn't home. I could have fought Damon. I could have just said "no," but I said nothing at all. I kissed him back and I didn't want him to stop. I would have let it go so much further. How can I have done this to Stefan? Didn't I promise him better only just last night? Am I more like Katherine than I think?_

Suddenly, Elena was overcome by a wave of nausea. Her hand over her mouth, she bolted out of the classroom, making it to the toilet in the girl's room just in time. Kneeling in front of the toilet Elena thought, _I am so disgusted with myself, and I can't get rid of that just by puking it out._

When she got back to Mr. Saltzman's class, Elena must have still looked pretty green, because he called her up to his desk and whispered, "You've been through a lot this week, Elena." _Oh, Mr. Saltzman, you only know the half of it, _Elena replied internally. "Why don't you go home now and get some rest? I'll send a memo to the school nurse to let her know I sent you home."

Elena left school, but she didn't head straight home. She went where she always went when she felt alone or confused, the cemetery. Elena sat between her parents' graves, leaning against the side of one of the headstones, and wrote in her diary, letting the whole day spill out in all of its shameful detail:

_Friday, May 7__th__, 2010, 1:30 pm_

_Dear Diary, _

_I'm confused. I'm humiliated. I'm ashamed of myself. I have no one to talk to about it but you._

_I've made things so much worse!_

_After things ended so weirdly with Stefan last night, I tried to go to Stefan's this morning to see if we could talk about the way things ended last night. I was determined that he and I should have it out. I didn't know what I said that set him off, but I felt like I had to stand up for myself. I felt so guilty last night about hurting him, but when I woke up this morning, I felt like he's always playing the victim. All I did was try to comfort him, and he leaves like that! _

_So, I get to Stefan's but Damon's at the door and he's acting very strangely. Stefan's not there, so I figure I'll take the opportunity to talk things out and clear the air with Damon. No one knows better than I do how secrets strain a relationship. I thought it would be awkward to talk about what Isobel said, but once we had it all out on the table, we could just be friends again like we've been – no weirdness. No additional weirdness, anyway._

_This was the mistake. I should have just left. I think. I don't know. I'm so confused._

_I'm not sure how it happened, it was all so fast, but before I knew it Damon had me up against a wall – literally. He really didn't want to talk about Isobel. He just kept saying things about how he is dangerous, an animal – how I'm an animal, too._

_And all the while he's touching me and kissing me. I let him touch me. I let him kiss me. _

_I'm not sure how to feel about this now as I write it, hours later. I'm ashamed and I'm turned on. _

_Damon kissed my neck, and I let him touch my breasts and even finger me. Damon dared me to say no or slap him, and I could have. As dangerous as Damon says he is, as rough as some of the moments were this morning, I know completely that Damon would never force me into anything. I let him kiss me and touch me all over, and I liked it. Diary, God help me, I really, really liked it. _

_I think I would have let things go all the way had he not backed off suddenly when I nicked my tongue on one of his fangs. (Did I not mention that Damon was fully vamped-out during all this making out?) I was bleeding just a little, and weird: it felt good. But Damon freaked. He backed way off and threw me out without even giving me time to fix myself and button my jeans._

_Everything is so unresolved now. I can't betray Stefan. I've already betrayed Stefan. Is it better to tell him, or to keep it secret? I don't know what I'll say to Stefan when I talk to him. I don't even know what to say to myself. What do I do now? Lucky for me, though, he was absent today and hasn't called. I haven't tried to reach him. If he's out hunting like Damon said, he'll be out of range in the woods and I wouldn't disturb him anyway. This gives me a little while longer to think. _

The sky was already getting dark when Elena finally let herself into the house. It was silent and dark. Elena flipped on the kitchen light and noticed a handwritten note on Jenna's turquoise stationary:

Elena and Jeremy-

Left for the B&B to celebrate Alaric birthday. Will be back Sunday evening. Call me on the cell if you burn down the house.

Love,

Jenna

P.S. I left a lasagna for you in the freezer, leftovers in the fridge, and money for groceries (or pizza) in the usual spot.

Beside Jenna's note was another, scrawled across paper torn out from a spiral notebook:

Elena –

Out with Anna. Be back before Jenna. Squeal on me to Jenna and I've got lots to squeal about on you.

Jeremy

So. Alone again.


	9. Chapter 9 Acceptance

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****The Vampire Diaries**** in any way - it all belongs to LJ Smith and the CW team. I just like to daydream about it and let you in, for my pleasure and, I hope, yours.**

**A/N: Thanks for all your patience. I hope you enjoyed the anticipation. And now, the moment you've all been waiting for . . . **

Saturday morning, Elena's house:

Elena's feet were on fire.

She jolted awake and found herself curled on the couch. Gingerly, she untwisted herself, stretched and sat up. The clock on the cable box said 10:30. The dish from last night's reheated lasagna sat unwashed on the coffee table. The TV was still on.

_I must have just passed out,_ Elena realized. She stood up and memories of the strange events of the past few days returned to her sleep-fogged mind. _I should have stayed asleep, _she lamented. _Well, I guess I'd better get the day started._

Elena placed her dirty dish in the kitchen sink, and remembered, in an unwelcome flash, Damon having been in that same space with her, bumping into her and pretending it was an accident, seeing through her front straight to her heart and advising her quit cheerleading . . . _Shake it off, Gilbert, _Elena told herself. _ Damon's been in a lot of places. Are you going to freak out in all of them? So what, yesterday was embarrassing. It was a lapse. It's over. And besides- Stefan's been in here a lot more often than Damon._

Walking up the stairs, Elena centered herself. It would be good for her to have the day to herself. Lord knows, there was plenty of school work begging to be caught up on. Having a vampire boyfriend has not turned out to be so good for the old GPA. She'd focus on schoolwork for today, figure out all of this other stuff later. Why give up all of her free time to a couple of guys, even if they are sexy vampires?

Elena gathered her clothes – yoga pants, soft tee, cotton panties, cotton bra – perfect for a relaxing day, and brought them with her into the bathroom. A long, hot shower was just what she needed to wash off the craziness of the last few days. Some water, some soap, some steam, and she'd be back to her old self in no time. Elena got undressed and stood under the shower, the hot water streaming over her naked body. It should have cleansed away all of the memories with it, but as Elena brought the sudsy loofah to her skin, she couldn't help visualizing just what it was she was washing off – the wetness of Damon's mouth against her neck, the pressure of his fingers gripping her shoulder, his fingers stroking her most intimate places. As she soaped herself, she couldn't help imagining Damon doing it for her. _What would it be like if we made love? Would it be the same as with Stefan? What would it feel like? What would it mean? _

It took forever for Elena to clear her thoughts, but finally she did. When the hot water ran out, she got out of the shower and slipped into her comfy clothes, feeling refreshed and washed clean. She fastened Stefan's vervain necklace behind her neck and told herself, _I can handle all this._

She padded down the hall on her bare feet, absentmindedly toweling her wet hair.

She entered her room, closed the door behind her, faced the mirror and began to brush out the knots in her hair. As she turned to toss the damp towel onto the laundry pile, she was momentarily thrown off-guard by the unexpected sight of Damon on her bed, his black button-down shirt and black jeans a stark contrast to her white lacy comforter. Elena gasped, then steeled herself, setting her jaw resolutely.

"If you've come here to apologize, I'm not interested. And get your boots off my bed."

Instead, Damon bent his knees so that the soles of his black boots made contact with the blanket. He looked up from toying with her old teddy bear and raised an eyebrow. "Who's apologizing? You've got me confused with Saint Stefan again."

Elena bristled at the mention of Stefan's name. It didn't sound right coming from him after what had happened yesterday morning. She turned her chin up defiantly and said disgustedly, "Fuck you, Damon."

"Oh later, later. Patience. I don't like to be rushed. Though it is kind of you to repeat your permission, there's no need. Once a vampire has been invited in," Damon's eyes raked down her body, leering with unabashed lasciviousness, "it's very difficult to rescind the invitation."

"You disgust me," Elena sneered indignantly.

"No, I don't," Damon replied with a smug smile, settling himself deeper into her plush pillows. "You changed your sheets. How considerate of you."

Elena reddened inexplicably at his allusion to her intimacy with her brother. _Why am I ashamed? Stefan is my boyfriend. He has no right to make me feel like this for having sex with him. So why do I? _Elena turned her back to Damon and faced her mirror, brushing out her damp hair roughly in frustration.

"If not to apologize, then why are you here, Damon?" Elena demanded, eying his reflection in the mirror warily.

For an instant, it seemed almost as if hurt flashed across his face. "Even if I were the apologizing type, I'm not sure that I'm the one who owes one here today. You're the one who crossed me yesterday, not the other way around." Damon replied softly. Then, with a dark mirth flashing behind his dark eyes, he grinned and said brightly, "I'm here because we have unfinished business. Don't we, love?"

Elena studied his reflection in the mirror. It was suddenly hard to breathe. "I'm with Stefan," Elena whispered.

"Really?" Damon asked with mock interest, lifting up her mattress then opening her closet door. "I don't see him anywhere and a forehead that big is hard to hide."

"Damon."

"Yes, Elena," Damon was suddenly right behind her, his breathy reply tickling her ear. Against her will, Elena shivered. Damon grinned.

"The way we left things yesterday . . ." Elena began softly and hesitantly.

"Yes, well, I guess I do owe an explanation there," Damon said, reaching around her to pull some photos of Elena and Stefan out from the edging of the mirror and drop them carelessly onto the surface of the dresser. "See, there's a reason they tell you not to feed the animals at the zoo. While you are . . ." he paused to draw his tongue slowly over her exposed neck, "delicious, you're not the kind of girl I'd use for a juice box."

At his touch, everything began to get hazy for Elena. "I can't think when you're this close to me. Go sit over there," Elena commanded, pointing to the bed. Damon obliged, took off his boots and flung them playfully across the room.

"What next, mistress," Damon grinned. "Your wish is my command."

Elena, though, was not feeling so playful. Even though she was fully clothed, she felt naked and exposed. Her heart pounded against her chest and the air was molasses. Leaning against her dresser, facing the mirror again, her fingers rested on a photograph that had been taken early in the school year, Stefan as football player, Elena as cheerleader. _How can I betray him? _ Tears pricked Elena's eyes and she closed them to shut them out.

When she opened them again, Damon was close behind her, but not touching her. "I don't want to cause you pain, Elena," Damon said with a strange raw earnestness.

The skin on Elena's back prickled in awareness of Damon's nearness. It was no use. This attraction was something that could not be fought. There was only one thing to do. Elena exhaled deeply and brought her hands up behind her neck to the clasp of her chain.

Damon was slack-jawed for a moment, then the dumbfoundedness on his face transformed into anger. "Elena," he spat her name at her, "what the fuck are you doing? Are you stupid?"

"Maybe," Elena replied softly, and laid down the vervain necklace on her dresser. "Maybe, but I'm trusting you. If we're going to do . . . whatever it is we might do, I can't do it if I can't trust you. Can I trust you?"

In an instant, Damon's porcelain pretty boy features disappeared and his vampire features emerged. "NO," he growled. I can't be trusted. I'm not tame."

"Right. Well," Elena said. "It's just – I can't – I won't be able to look Stefan in the eye or face myself in the mirror after this." Elena looked down at the vervain necklace coiled on the dresser and remembered when Stefan gave it to her – the love in his eyes, how special it had made her feel. "I can't do that," Elena continued, "I can't break his heart like that. I can't be her. But – but – I can't," Elena's voice broke and she looked at Damon's eyes in the mirror, "I can't deny you either."

When she said this, Damon felt a strange tug in his chest. The dark veins around his eyes faded and his irises returned to blue, but his sharp fangs remained. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

"After it's over," Elena whispered, "I want you to make me forget."

For an instant so short it was almost unnoticeable, it seemed to Elena that she saw Damon's reflection flinch in the mirror, but then it was over. Damon recovered and smiled lasciviously, revealing his pointed fangs. "I can live with that," he replied, smoothing the hair off of her neck, "All the better, actually. It'll be like the first time, every time."

Damon took Elena gently by her shoulders and spun her to face him. Elena was suddenly frozen with fear, shame, and anticipation. She held her breath. Damon leaned down and scratched his sharp fangs down her throat, restraining himself from breaking the skin. It occurred to Elena that she was probably making a big mistake, even a deadly one. No one would be home for more than a day. Bonnie and Caroline were angry with her. Stefan was wherever Stefan was. If Damon wasn't worthy of her trust, there would be no saving her. Even with the necklace, she was vulnerable, and now without it, his teeth on her neck, she was entirely at his mercy.

"I'm hungry," Damon murmured against her neck, gently nipping, restraining himself with all of his will. The sensation of his teeth and her utter helplessness flooded her, connected her neck to her core, inflaming her. Damon scented her response, the delicious perfume of arousal and fear. "Yes, yes, you're right. There's no turning back now. Lucky thing there's more than one way to devour you."

With that, Damon pulled Elena against his body in a crushing kiss. His teeth became blunt to prevent a rerun of yesterday's pesky bloodlust problem, but he was still menacingly forceful. With Damon's arms tight around her, Elena could hardly move, let alone resist. Her hands were pinned against his hard chest and at first, in panic, she pushed against him and tried to writhe free, but that only made him let out a little growl. "Now, now, Elena, don't fight me now. You know what I said about invitations. That's twice now you've asked me in. There's no turning back. Submit."

Inexplicably, it made Elena feel calm to know that all choice had been removed. With a moan, she let herself go limp in the tightness of his muscled arms, and she felt her warm juices soaking through her cotton panties and down the thighs of her yoga pants.

With his arms still tight around her, Damon began stepping forward toward the bed, forcing Elena to step back and then lie down beneath him. Once on the bed, he gathered up her arms and held her hands above her head, restraining her from touching him. Elena mewled in complaint, and he grunted his unmoved response. Damon lay down on top of her, forcing his thin, lithe body between her legs. Elena could not keep herself from crying out against his punishing mouth as he ground his hard groin against her wet center.

Suddenly, Damon released her arms and Elena wrapped them around his back, enjoying the feel of his strong back as he rocked against her. "Just a moment, there, eager one. This a lot more fun when we wear fewer clothes." Damon slipped his hand under her tee and deftly slipped it off, somehow removing her bra in the same movement.

"How did you do that?" Elena asked, laughing despite herself, and bringing up an arm to shield her naked breasts.

"A magician never shares his secrets love," said Damon as he sheered off his own shirt. Elena stared mystified as he kept going, unzipping his low-slung jeans and sliding them down and off, fully revealing in the bright noon light that he wore nothing at all underneath.

To Elena, he was like a statue come to life, white and smooth and impossibly perfect. She tried not to look, but she was captivated by his cock, large and heavy yet somehow defying gravity, so engorged with blood that it was visibly pinker than the rest of him. As he moved back into the bed, Elena reached out a tentative hand and gently ran it down his chest stopping just short of where his cock lay above his navel. With Stefan and with Matt, Elena had always initiated, played the sex kitten. But here now with Damon, she felt like a timid virgin.

Damon watched her face as she ran her hand down his chest. His useless heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him just as she was getting to his cock. He knew she was no virgin, but yet there was something of the virgin about her in this moment that made him feel a tug of protectiveness.

With forced boldness, Elena moved in closer and wrapped her hand around his cock, her small hand not quite making it all the way around his impressive girth. Damon groaned in satisfaction at her touch and arched his body closer to hers. "You're going to hurt me, aren't you, Damon?"

Damon was tempted to make a quip about his brother, since he knew it was his size that caused her question, but when he saw the apprehension in her eyes that she was trying so hard to mask, he held back the dig and said truthfully, "Yes, darling, I will hurt you, but only in ways you'll like."

Elena, forgetting for a moment to use her other arm to shield her exposed breasts, rolled on her side and pressed herself tightly against him, naked chest to naked chest. Elena felt the heady conflicted sensation of being aware to a strange degree of each cell of her body that touched Damon's, and yet feeling as if she was melting into him, unsure of where she ended and he began. In that instant, Elena forgot even to forget Stefan. He simply did not exist. She tipped up her chin, but for once it wasn't defiance Damon saw in the expression, but tenderness as Elena raised her mouth to kiss him. The look alone was nearly enough to undo him. Their mouths came together with a sweetness Damon could not abide. Forgetting her fear, Elena began to pump his magnificent cock, but he flipped her over onto her back, slamming her into the bed, the violence of the move softened by the welcoming softness of the down comforter.

"Not this time Elena. That's not how we're playing now," Damon sneered, bearing his full weight down up her and pressing his hard length into her. Once again, Damon captured her hands and hauled them over her head, pulling so that her body stretched and arched against him. He propped himself up and with his free hand, he disdainfully disposed of her yoga pants, but he left her cotton panties on when Elena moaned an objection into his mouth.

With blunted teeth, Damon nipped Elena slowly from the top of her ear, down her slender neck, along her delicate collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts. Elena moaned with every touch of his mouth. Cruelly, he avoided her nipples, though Elena arched her back to raise them high in offering. Damon grunted his thanks and approval, but nipped and licked the white flesh all around and in the valley between her breasts, neglecting the pink buds. Only when Elena could take no more and thrashed under him against the mattress, begging, "Stop Damon, I can't take any more," did he finally take her hot hard nipple into his cool mouth. He teased it with his tongue gently, then but down hard with his blunt teeth. Elena shouted out, "Oh fuck," and bucked beneath him in pain and ecstasy.

Releasing her hands, Damon slid down her body kissing and nipping at her stomach. He ran his hand across her mound, causing her to hitch her breath. He lowered his head and she grabbed him by the hair and tries to haul him up. He was too strong. He buried his face in her crotch and breathed deeply. Elena flushed bright red, hairline to pantyline. "You're doing dangerous things bringing blood that close to the surface. Don't ever wear perfume. You smell incredible. Good enough to eat."

Damon slid a finger under her panties at the thigh and slowly, teasingly, ran it down, touching the soaked white cotton but not her skin. "Mmm, Elena, were you caught out in the rain? Here, let me get you out of these wet clothes." Damon grabbed the sides of her panties and tore them off. Elena tried to cover herself with her hands. "Why so shy, Elena?" Damon purred, kissing the insides of her thighs even as she tried to squirm away. "Do I have to compel you to enjoy yourself? I intend," he paused to force her hands to her sides and take a long, deep lick down her slit, "to make the most of this opportunity."

Elena was mortified at this exposure. That he should be so close, _down there_, smelling her, tasting her. She lay rigidly, her eyes screwed closed. "Relax, baby, relax," Damon murmured into her, and despite herself, Elena moaned loudly at the vibration against her clitoris. "Hmmm," he hummed against her," so we like this, do we?" Elena moaned in response, and let her thighs fall the rest of the way apart, granting Damon full access to her aching core. Elena was really enjoying herself now as Damon licked and sucked at her lips and her clit. "Damon, what are you doing?" Elena asked, but didn't fight, as Damon slid his hands under her bottom to tilt her hips up so that he could lap up her juices as from a cup. Now that Elena had gotten over her shyness, she moaned and writhed with abandon, fisting his hair and crying out, "Yes! Yes! Oh, Damon" when he nipped her clit with his blunt teeth.

But to her frustration, he wouldn't take her over the edge, and he wouldn't let her touch him. "Please, please, Damon."

"Please, what, Elena? Is this – ," he nipped at her clit, eliciting from her a short obscene cry – "not pleasing?"

"Yes, yes, yes, but _please!"_

"I know what you want, Elena. I know what you want. I can give it to you, if you give me what I want first," Damon replied coolly, punctuating his sentence with a long smooth lick down her slit, then sliding up her body on his elbows to look into her eyes. She could feel his cock, hard and heavy resting against her inner thigh, so tantalizing, so maddeningly off-limits.

"Anything, Damon, anything," Elena breathed, nearly senseless with desire and sensation.

"Tell me you're mine. You belong to me – for tonight anyway."

"Yes, Damon, yes! I'm yours. I'm yours. Damon, I'm yours!" Elena pleaded.

Damon grinned his most mischievous grin, his blue eyes flashing, and then reached down and took his cock in his hand. Elena gave him a confused look, but Damon kept grinning down at her, then slapped her clit hard with his cock. The shock and pain of it was sublime.

Elena screamed and began a shuddering orgasm. Her whole body seemed to be convulsing. Just when Elena thought her body was not capable of more sensation, Damon pushed himself forward, taking her in one movement, with her body contracting all around him.

Elena was pulled from her senseless orgasmic reverie by the shock of pain ripping through her body from the Damon's swift powerful entry. Elena was filled to overflowing with Damon. Still coming, her dreamy eyes snapped open and Elena noted victoriously that for just a moment when he first began to rake himself in and out of her, his clear blue eyes rolled back inside his head in ecstasy. _I made him lose his cool. _Then he gathered himself and set his jaw, pulling himself out then pushing back in, first slowly and gently then fast and hard, refusing to let Elena stop coming. All thoughts ebbed away.

If Elena had been able to think by now, she might have been afraid for herself and she watched Damon abandon himself above her. She would have wondered apprehensively, _When had he allowed his vampire face to appear? _But Elena could not think. Elena rode wave after wave of orgasm, a warm, unrelenting floodtide, as he drove himself into her again and again with increasing force and speed and she felt like she would be split open by his thick, hard cock, as destructive as a battering ram. She tried to raise her arms to caress the roped muscles of his arms or to run her hands down his strong back, but found that she couldn't quite make them work. Her teeth began to chatter, and cold sweat streamed from her pores. The edges of her vision began to get darker, and soon all she could see were Damon's red and unmerciful eyes.

If Damon could think, he might have worried about hurting Elena. He might have paced himself to make it last. He might have remembered that human girls sometimes have trouble coping with the full measure of pleasure he had to offer. But Damon could not think. He had only a moment of composure after taking her. Damon had quickly lost himself in fucking Elena. As she came again and again, her walls contracting and releasing, shattering and shuddering around his cock, he was being devoured. It was too much. Fucking Elena was just too sweet to keep his cool. He let go of all art and technique and just took. It wasn't long before he was over the edge. The sensation had built to unbearable. Damon pushed himself into Elena for the last time, tightened like a bow, then exploded with a feral growl, spurting his seed into her. When Damon saw her eyes flutter and roll back, then he knew it had been too much for both of them.

Damon collapsed on top of Elena, spent for now. His cock twitched as Elena's slowing convulsions milked out the last of his cum. With effort, Damon propped himself up on one elbow, and gently tapped Elena on each cheek with the other. No response.

"Mmmm…. That was nice, wasn't it? I guess you're not up for talking now." Damon said sarcastically to Elena's limp form. Elena's sheath surprised him by shuddering around him once again, hardening him instantly. He took stock of her face: closed eyes, lips slack and parted, no movement.

"Sorry sweetheart, I can't keep that orgasm going for you anymore," Damon said, pulling out. "I only fuck living dead girls, and I'm afraid I can't make an exception even for you."


End file.
